Long live the King
by JJenny89
Summary: On the eve of Asgard's destruction, Odin and Loki speak of who would've gotten the throne. And why.


A relatively random story exploring the relationship between Odin and his sons. References things that I have not yet bothered to write down.

I don't own the Avengers.

* * *

"You fool! Your actions of late have been beyond me, but I would have never thought you this far gone, you imbecile!" Odin shouted at him. He was, once more, locked in a cell, his magic shackled and the muzzle in place. As such he could not respond to Odin's accusations.

"You were free, sheltered by political protections on Midgard, free outside the Nine Realms where Heimdall even could not see you. Why, why come to Asgard?" Odin was pacing in front of his cell and something in the back of mind was warning him. Something was off. He had thought the Allfather to be pleased. Pleased that his erstwhile son was once again in his grasp. Pleased he could finally mete out the punishment that he'd decided on. Pleased that the shame of having his prisoner escape would be erased.

"Has your mind truly gone Loki? I had thought you'd recovered a long time ago." Odin continued, seemingly more to himself than to Loki. He waved the words away as if they were nothing.

The words however unleashed a torrent of emotion in Loki's mind though. So Odin had known, known that the Chitauri had broken into his mind and reshaped it to their desires. Loki hardly remembered some of his actions, but the Allfather had known. And yet he had ignored Thor's statement to the same. And yet it had not influenced his judgement. Loki had still been punished for actions not entirely his own.

It also meant that Odin had, in some way followed him, and watched him. Watched him break out of prison, seen him reconcile with Thor, known that he was the cause of Thor's fall as well. Had borne witness to everything that made him even more undesirable that he already was.

Had seen, his heart stuttered, his wife, what she was. What she could do. All-Seeing indeed. Odin would like to get his hands on the most powerful Seer. The rage grew and it was tinged with fear. The little niggling voice in the back of his mind, the one that sounded suspiciously like Genevieve, told him he was missing something.

"There is no leeway now. Not enough peace to stave off your execution. I will be forced to see you executed. Your mother will be forced to see you executed!" Odin shouted once more. The King seemed genuinely upset at the prospect. Not that Loki himself was terribly excited.

The voice, definitely Gen's, whispered things into his mind. _He is considered all-seeing is he not? I wonder… I would not make Thor king, but neither would I make you king. Your father, I don't like him. I wonder if Odin knew what he was getting into when he took you. You were taught well. Excellent scheme, may he rot. May he rot, may he rot, may he rot…_

Odin and Genevieve _had_ met, and the Allfather had not left a favourable impression on his wife. Nor vice versa, he imagined. His father and his wife had met, and neither saw fit to tell him. Also, Odin would have seen the extend of Genevieve skill. Loki was surprised she had managed to avoid being kept at court as a rather useful pet. The revelations were so sudden that his magic and his tongue lashed out, both to be punished so severely he dropped to his knees.

"What have you done, my son? I pray this is part of a bigger plot, but I fear I see no other end than your execution. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" Odin roared. Loki gritted his teeth, he could not answer and for the first time since his origins were revealed, he wished he could speak to Odin.

Perhaps Odin could indeed read minds, as he then banged Gungir and the muzzle fell away. Odin looked expectant, waiting for Loki's answers, as he had when he was an errant child. Loki cleared his throat, spit out blood and slowly rose. He locked eyes with the Allfather and suddenly felt as if he'd dressed for the glaciers of Jotunheim and ended up among the fires of Svartalfrheim. He had not felt like this since the time Genevieve had, so carelessly, dismissed his Jotun blood. _Whoever said that? You may be many things Loki, a Jotun you are not. _She had said it dismissively, as if it was common knowledge. The resulting feeling had been similar to now, utter bafflement.

"What have _you_ done?" He finally asked, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. Loki was further surprised when he saw Odin's face morph from rage into a 'cat-got-the-canary' look, to pure, naked fatherly pride (something Loki could not recall ever seeing in his life), to be replaced by a sudden grief and finally resignation.

Something was wrong. So very wrong. Odin resisted for a moment, but then sighed.

"Very well, it is beyond my reach now." Odin took a chair and sat down in front of the glass and magical door. He suddenly seemed old, ancient and so very tired. Loki sat on his cot, his stomach feeling like it was filled with live snakes. Up until now he had had some last vestiges hope. Hope that things would work out, somehow. But now, he was certain. He was to die. Odin was to die, his mother was to die. Asgard would fall.

"I am not Jotun." Loki started. If he was to die he would die with the answers he had so long craved.

"I should think not." Odin agreed. Loki felt the ground shake under his feet. Having Genevieve tell him was one thing. Having Odin confirm it was another entirely.

"What am I?" Loki choked out.

"That is the realm of the Gods." Odin replied and Loki was about to rise, he _deserved _a better answer than that. But Odin continued before he could. "You were a babe, thrown away by Laufey, the fool. He could not see the gift you were. Even if you had been nothing but the runt of an Ice Giant, which I could immediately tell you were not, I would have taken you. But the moment I picked you up became like me, not just in looks, but in essence. You _became_ Aesir. You could, presumable become _anything._"

"And you thought you could use me." Loki spat out bitterly. Odin looked up, straight into Loki's soul and pathetic like a child, Loki still wished for something more. Some sort of acknowledgement that he was more to Odin than a useful thing.

"Yes." Odin confirmed, seemingly with hesitation or shame.

Loki could barely suppress the whimper. He truly was nothing more than a stolen relic. Or no, a weapon. He was a weapon and had never been anything else than a tool. The words also made abundantly clear that Odin did not expect either of them to live much longer. Much to his surprise Loki didn't know what was worse.

* * *

"It was so close." Odin offered. He had gone and come back with a bottle of svíyr and two glasses. Odin swirled the liquid in his glass. "To whom to leave the throne was always the biggest question. Tyr is too much of a soldier and not enough of a leader. Baldr is too kind, too weak, too… _good._ Thor is much much beloved, and certainly the most popular choice. But he is rash and does not have the reserves for the more intricate and political aspects of ruling…."

On some level it sickened Loki to hear Odin speak of his children so callously. So harshly. On the other hand, he suddenly realised he was not the only one Odin used as a pawn in the political game. All three of his brothers were too.

"And you could never have a-" Loki stopped himself, he was not an Ice Giant, after all. "someone not of your blood on the throne." Though the concept did not sting as it once had. It turns out all of them had been found wanting. A novel idea.

"Do not play the fool!" Odin barked. "It does not become you." There was a pause.

"You would be a good _ruler._ The best of the lot." Loki wasn't sure if it was praise and if he wanted it if it was. "But you are too much like me." Odin continued. And Loki accepted this as less than praise indeed.

"You would rule well and you would do Asgard good, in theory. But people do not know what is good for them. You are not well liked and not considered trustworthy. And as much as we like to deny it, a King receives its power form its subjects. Asgard would have been lost to civil disturbance." Loki felt sick. How little they were to the Allfather. He would laugh at the term, but could not bring himself to.

"Thor's influence was supposed to cancel it out." _What?! _Odin had meant him for the throne after all? "As Frigga balanced out my unpopularity, as she hid the hard angles of my rule, so would the two of you be the perfect ruling pair. Thor, much beloved Thor on the throne and you to handle to politics. To be his best advisor, the power behind the throne." Wonderful, thought Loki, and realised that that arrangement would have suited him rather well. Had off course he not try and conquer Midgard, made more than a few insincere attempts on Thor's life and had finally, rather ruined the relationship between him and his brother. They had since reconciled, as they were no longer trying to kill each other, but they were hardly as close as they had been before.

"But you let your selfishness and your blind jealousies interfere. Your inability to see the true meaning behind my decisions ruined that." Normally Loki would be angered; he would have scathing words and enraged actions to words such as these. Though perhaps there were no words such as these. He felt as if he was once more falling through the Void. A million impressions and none that made any sense.

"When you fell, I had to change my plans. I had thought to perhaps find him a wife. There would be none of your calibre, but someone to help him see plots, to make sure he didn't ruin Asgard on a mission of good intentions." Loki wondered if it really mattered to Odin. Brothers, Spouses, as long as the King (Thor) had his personality balanced out for the Greater Good. Still, Loki imagined it was hard to cultivate such a relationship between two people, close enough to really listen and even closer still to not murder each other for power. Loki doubted a political match would influence Thor very much.

"Genevieve would have done marvellously." Odin interrupted, and to his horror, Loki realized that Odin had considered this in quite some detail.

"What?!" Loki yelled. Gen was _his _wife. His. Thor would never see her brilliance. Her incandescent beauty. Her humour, her love, her ruthless mind or her soul. Though part of him, the traitorous part, showed him the merit of Odin's ideas. Gen and Thor together, would rule considerably well. Thor liked Gen, and she him, and her opinion _mattered _to Thor. All of which was inconsequential as Genevieve was _his_ wife.

He would never see her again he suddenly realised. He would die soon and they were not going the same places after that. That little nugget of realization tore him from his anger. She had not, on purpose he realized, said anything about Asgard's troubles. But her Sight was so encompassing that he learned of it anyway and had snuck out like an errant youth.

"Hindsight off course." Odin continued. "You married her first and though she did wonders for you as a person, it is hardly for the good of Asgard. She is not likeable or trustworthy on a throne either. Perhaps had you married Sigyn." Odin mused, looking into a distance far beyond the cells. Loki looked down to see his hands shake. Sometimes ignorance was indeed bliss, he realized. Or if not bliss, a sight more digestible.

"Well, it matters not. The Ragna close in on the Citadel and the battle will be lost. No Aesir will sit on the throne of Asgard." Odin downed the remainder of the bottle.

"But tell me, my son, why did you come here. Why force me to execute you on the dawn of the final battle Asgard will ever face?" Loki met Odin's gaze. He could not process the information provided to him, so he focussed on his original plan, a failed one at that.

"Genevieve." He spoke, how to put this in words?

"Cruelty?" Odin queried. "It does not seem like you. Or her for that matter." Part of Loki balked at the lunacy of Odin considering Loki being executed cruelty towards _Odin_.

"No. It was not consciously done on her part. There is a traitor in Asgard, the reason we would have fallen. Or will soon enough apparently."

"I know." Odin interrupted.

"You know?!" Loki choked. Wonderful, he would die for naught.

"Not who off course, but the only way this disaster could've happen was inside help. I take it Genevieve knows?" Well, at least he could've been of help had he not been captured and muzzled entirely too soon, Loki comforted himself. There had been a chance.

"Yes." Loki agreed. "Though she did not tell me."

"No." Odin mused. "She would not have you risk yourself for a doomed cause." Loki wondered just how well Odin and Genevieve knew each other. When had they met? He could not imagine it had been a particularly amiable meeting. And why had Genevieve not told him?

"But, though it is too late, tell me, who is it?" All hope was lost indeed. Loki idly wondered if Genevieve would walk into his dreams once more, or if she was too angry at him for going behind her back.

"Baldr." Loki said, vaguely absent.

"Baldr? That is insanity." Odin sounded incredulous. It would be, Baldr was such a paragon of sweetness and goodness (which made him ineligible for the throne, the voice, no longer Gen's, whispered), no one would suspect him of treason.

"He has been taken over." Loki explained. The Ragna seemed to have learned something from fighting the Chitauri (his fault?) and that was mind control.

"Lost long before now then." Odin stated and there was something so very wrong about the finality and flippancy of Odin's words. He had just received news his son was gone. Then again, his second son was banished, and did not seem interested in returning, Tyr would undoubtedly perish in the coming battle and Loki was waiting on his execution. They were, he supposed, all of them lost.

Silence reigned for a long time. Eventually Odin rose and started to walk away. He stopped just before leaving the dungeons.

"Why though. After repeated betrayal and expulsion, why risk yourself?" Odin asked. Loki paused, why indeed? Why come to save the people he didn't like? The truth tingled in his mind. It was too little and entirely too late, but he voiced it anyway.

"I am of Asgard."

* * *

Three days later it was time. He could tell by the guards' behaviour. Gen had not deigned to visit his dreams, though he had done his very best to sleep as much as possible. The new-found truths had settled uncomfortably in his soul, made worse by the fact that he, in actuality, understood his…. father's actions. It made horrible sense. Even worse was the realization that none of it mattered.

"It is time." The guard came to get him. Loki wondered why bother to execute him. The Ragna would not let him live once they took over in any case. Some sort of last ditch morale boost? Execute the traitor before marching into slaughter? Loki found he cared little.

Lost in thought he followed the guards through the hallways. What did the condemned spend their last thoughts on? He wondered. He had hoped for something profound, if not peace. But all he could see were the faces of the people he would _miss_. All those he was losing.

His beautiful wife, who was very angry apparently. Thor, who he realized had been dealt a rather poor hand as well. Stark and the strange friendship that had been built among the carcasses of enemies. Darcy, rather the only genuinely _good_ person he could stand.

Suddenly he tripped, over the unconscious guard. He yanked his head up to see his wife. In all her pissed off glory. She gripped Mjolnir in her hand and had fire in her eyes. He was not necessarily surprised to see her. As a psychic she had the unfortunate habit of popping up unexpected. He was however surprised Thor was not here to accompany her, but his brother's resentment ran much deeper than Loki had ever expected.

She did not speak and, once freed of his cuffs, he followed her up into the world equally silent. Once up top, he smelled fire and blood. Death lingered. In the distance he could see the thousands of Ragna, waiting to overtake the last little bit of Asgard. They were doomed indeed. And he was going to Midgard and beyond. Him and Thor the last Aesir in the universe.

"I – I." Loki started. Gen stopped and regarded him, knowing all his secrets, privy to all his thoughts and feelings. No one would want her on a throne indeed, the stray thought flitted through his mind.

"I can't." Loki stated, though the angry, betrayed, _sensible_ part of him screamed in futile rage. "I must see this through to the end." He tried to explain. _I am of Asgard. I am of Asgard. I am of Asgard._ "I am sorry, please, tell-" He was interrupted by her lips fastening on his.

"You are such an idiot sometimes." She spoke when she released him. She shook her head at him. "I brought the Avengers."

* * *

Let me know!


End file.
